Feathers in the Wind
by Zipis
Summary: Drabbles centered around Kagura
1. Festival

A/N: First written in 2005 under a pen name I lost access to for a "30 Shards challenge" I never finished. Maybe one day I will.

 **Title:** _Festival_

 **Character:** _Kagura_

 **Theme:** _Festival_

 **Rating:** _PG_

 **Squicks:** _Slight gore_

 **Summary:** _It was her time to be in control._

Kagura watched as hundreds of demons were blasted apart, their remains falling back to the earth. She showed no concern for those that had fallen to protect her. She didn't care that the amount of live demons at her disposal was dwindling. It didn't matter to her. She could always make them rise again.

With one twitch of her fan, she could make the limbs of what was once a dragon move as though they were not only alive, but their own being. She could make the ogre charge at her enemy, attack with such vehemence that anyone who did not know better would think that it was enraged and fighting completely of its own accord. Never mind the fact that the dragon limbs had no body, never mind the fact that the ogre's skull was split nearly in two, what remained of its brain sprayed onto the ground and rock on which it fell. They would do what she commanded, and she commanded them to fight.

They were like performers in a festival, and she was their manager. And really, that's all her battles were. The battles she fought never had any real significance, no real purpose. They were really just to entertain Naraku. Perhaps that's even what he saw when she battled; a festival just for him.

He would watch with glee as the fallen demons would come to life again, dancing to her song, ready to fight. Would listen with pleasure as they screamed in agony while being ripped asunder, some even watching their own severed arms and legs rise without them before they finally died. It was like music to him, and Kagura, though still conducting, would dance right along with them, just as much a part of the show as the dead creatures that surrounded her.

Kagura knew that she was just Naraku's entertainment, but also knew that she enjoyed it as well. She enjoyed having control over death and the creatures that had succumbed to it. Enjoyed managing their moves. Enjoyed creating this show, even if it was for Naraku.

Despite the fact that she did such things for a man she hated, it was her time to be in control, to call the shots, to manipulate the weak. Even if he thought it was for him, it was for her that they danced. She was in charge. It was hers: Kagura's Festival of the Dead.


	2. I'm Free

**Title:** _I'm Free_

 **Character:** _Kagura_

 **Theme:** _Festival_

 **Rating:** _G_

 **Squicks:** _None_

 **Summary:** _Everyone could hear it; the wind was whispering_.

 _I'm free._

Everyone could hear it; the wind was whispering. At first they thought it to be their imaginations, that working all day with the hot sun beating down on them was causing them to hear things that weren't there. But even those who did not work outside, such as the women, could hear it, and babies would laugh in amusement when the wind swept by, tickling their ears and whispering its message.

 _I'm free._

They were afraid of it, at first, and when the last of the demon exterminators walked through their village, they begged her to find and destroy it. She would not, however, for when the wind blew by and danced around her, whispering the same thing it had to all the villagers –

 _I'm free._

– she just smiled as though listening to an old friend, and told them they had nothing to fear before continuing on her way.

They were skeptical, at first, and for a while their backs would stiffen and their hearts would beat faster whenever the wind would blow, afraid that the exterminator was wrong. But after a few months had gone by without anything attacking them, they began to notice that the wind seemed almost…playful. It would blow by the villagers, always sure to twirl around them, before taking off, picking up leaves and throwing them to the air as if in celebration, always whispering the same thing over and over.

 _I'm free._

During the winter season, the villagers noticed that the wind didn't howl as though in anger anymore, would no longer destroy their houses or their crops when a storm raged outside. It would only whisper its solitary message.

 _I'm free._

After a while, the villagers began to think of their wind spirit as a protector, and would give thanks for every storm in which the wind didn't cause damage. The wind, as though in reply, would brush by them and sigh:

 _I'm free._

Now, whenever they pause their work on a hot day to rest, the wind will dance around them, cooling their skin and drying the sweat from their foreheads, and they will always listen when it whispers.

 _I'm free._


End file.
